


Fanfiction

by The_Silent_Writer



Series: Fan-Fiction [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Blogging, Fanfiction, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Sherohn, Slight Alternative Reality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-24
Updated: 2014-02-24
Packaged: 2018-01-13 14:13:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1229461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Silent_Writer/pseuds/The_Silent_Writer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which John writes his own fanfiction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fanfiction

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Artist in Residence](https://archiveofourown.org/works/854279) by [EventHorizon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EventHorizon/pseuds/EventHorizon). 



Blogging, neigh, writing had always been John’s way to release himself from the tires of the day. Blogging was simply the outlet of late that he had been able to let go in. Since he was young, John Watson had used writing to get away from the real world, if only for a short while.

Lately, blogging his escapades with his flat mate wasn’t enough. He wanted more, both from his writing and from his friend. Of course, he could never say this to Sherlock. There was no way in hell he would tell Sherlock of what went on between him and his laptop and a blank document behind closed doors.

He couldn’t.

 

_It had been a long week, full of cases, solving crimes, and bringing justice to those who needed it. John Watson was in dire need of a long, hot bath and a long rest. The moment the duo entered 221B, he set off to accomplish these tasks._

_A hot bath, some quiet classical music and a good book (this time: The Hobbit by JRR Tolkien) was exactly what John needed right now. He would have had them too, if he didn’t have a flat mate that refused to leave him alone._

_“John, go buy some so-and-so, it’s for an experiment.” “John, come here, I need a blood and saliva sample.” “John, we’re out of milk.”_

_Tonight, when Sherlock burst into the bathroom, it was: “John, what in the world are you doing? I need the tub to store some specimens in.” Gandalf had_ just _started wondering what kind of ‘good morning’ Bilbo was inferring to when this happened._

_“Sherlock, can it not wait for another hour or so? I’m busy.”_

_“As am I. I’m in the middle of an experiment, John. It’s for a case, so do hurry up. Go and_ blog _or something.”_

_John cut the consulting detective a look, closing his book and handing it to him. “Please take my book and put it on my table before I throw it at you” he said, giving Sherlock his usual I’m-going-to-kill-you-Sherlock smile._

_Taking the thin book, he gave it a quick once-over lifting an eyebrow as he did so. Without another word, Holmes left the bathroom._

_John sighed, taking a few more moments to enjoy the swaddling heat of his bath. How could Sherlock not see that this was John’s way of unwinding, other than writing of course? Sherlock’s ways were far too farfetched to be considered relaxing to John. Besides, he had just cleaned the tub the other day and he really didn’t want to see his hard work go to waste from whatever Sherlock was intending to put in there._

_A loud shout of his name and a “hurry up!” attached meant John’s stay was no longer welcome in this area of the premises. He stood, wrapping a towel around his waist. Just in time too, because Sherlock came storming back in right at that moment._

_The pair just stood there, looking at each other. John, dripping wet, skin red from the heat. Sherlock, wide-eyed and scanning every bit of John he could see. They had surely lost count of how many minutes they simply stood in silence, but it was John who broke it._

_“I’ll leave you to it, yeah?” John smiled, stepping around the statuesque Sherlock._

_The consulting detective staid where he was, blush rising to his cheeks, star struck.--_

 

Shit.

A soft knock on his bedroom door shook John out of his alternative reality.

“Yes?” John said, closing his laptop. He placed it on his bed as he moved towards the door. Cracking it slightly to be greeted by a tall, dark, and handsome consulting detective. At least, that is what he called his flat mate in his head. “All right?”

“Case, John! Three linked murders and a possible fourth! The game is on!”

John laughed, hopefully to himself. Sherlock’s amazement for the things others found disturbing would never get old to John. “Of course it is. Give me a moment, I’ll get ready. Put some clothes on.”

“Yes… no! The less the better! I’ll explain when we get there!” Sherlock pushed the door open, revealing his choice of clothing. Tight, black skinny jeans (which John noted, hugged Sherlock’s curvature quite well), and a tight, relatively plain white shirt adorned his torso which showed just a teasing of the hair leading from his navel to treasures untold. To top off this look, Sherlock’s typically bouncy curls were slicked back, showing of his long features and strong cheek bones.

John took a minute to regain whatever was left of his mind. The moment he saw Sherlock, he had lost a part of it on Fantasy Island.

He nodded, pulling out clothes that would hopefully imitate Sherlock’s risky style.

Well, this was going to be interesting.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. Please let me know what you think of it.
> 
> EventHorizon's "Artist in Residence" inspired me to write this. Mycroft loves his painting that he doesn't want to do anything thing else and I thought, "Hey, John loves to write and blog-- WAIT! I could try that!" So for that, I thank you EventHorizon. 
> 
> I'm hoping that I'll be motivated to write more very soon! Until then, thank you again.
> 
> -bows-
> 
> Have a great day.


End file.
